Authors: Nichole Matthews
He grunted noncommittally. S
itting
up
,
he
tossed his book
on the marble-topped table next to
his chair. “Perhaps it is only this chair. It’s deuced uncomfortable.”
He wiggled in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.
That was all well and good, but he didn’t want to grow accustomed to the quiet. He wanted to hear the raucous laughter of his hoydenish sister, Poppy, or the insistent bits of information Piper felt compelled to relate to anyone and everyone that would listen. Peyton on the other hand
—
oh, who was he attempting to fool? Peyton was growing into a fine man, sowing his oats, but a fine man
,
nonetheless. Besides, he put little stock in all the rumors that floated around the
Ton
in regards to Peyton’s more
licentious
activities.
“You mustn’t spend all
of
your time with me, Parker.” Adele glanced up
over the rims of her spectacles
. “I will not be hurt
if you choose to sit in one of the deep leather chairs in your
study to read from time to time.”
“With Miss Harris at
Allingham
Park
,
while
Poppy
is in
the final stages of
her confinement
,
you are all alone
,” Parker sai
d. “
Perhaps we should hire you a companion?”
“I am perfectly able to entertain myself, Parker.” Adele loo
ked amused at his concern.
“I’
m not in my dotage as of yet.”
“I didn’t mean to imply…”
Parker’s voice trailed off when he saw
the smirk upon his a
unt’s face.
His whole family adored her. He had always loved his aunt.
She had been the one to coddle and sneak him sweetmeats after his mother had died. The person with whom he had shared confidences and the only one who truly knew what had happened during that fateful Season.
She was the only one who knew how p
rofoundly affected he was by the whole unsavory
incident.
“I know
,
dear, I’m only teasing you.”
“
Perhaps I will occupy my time with
redecorating
this room.” Parker grimaced
, glancing around at all the fluff.
“I would hate to entertain my friends in
this
g
od
awful
pink
room.
I would be the laughing stock of my club.
”
“
Don’t you dare,
Parker
Mathias Peregrine
,”
Adele objected, her tone strong and reprimanding, her finger wagging enthusiastically
. “
Your sister
s
would
be
devastate
d
if yo
u altered one item in
this ro
om. It
’
s all they have ever known of their
mother.
You’ve plenty of other rooms to occupy if you
are unable to stomach this one
.
”
“The portrait can remain; ho
wever, they no longer live here,” he said, gesturing toward the crushed velvet pink settee.
“
Why must I be subjected to this horrendous color
scheme
day after day? I grow
more and more nauseous the longer I remain.
”
“Fiddle,” Adele argued. “I won’t allow it. I will write to Poppy posthaste and then we
wi
ll see
how quickly you change your mind.
”
“Oh, stuff,” Parker retorted
, sitting forward in the rickety chair
. “Am I not the master of my own home?” He held back a grin, but the crease in his cheek gave him a way. “Poppy is going to
deliver a baby at any moment, a possible heir to the Duke of
Hawksle
y
. S
he has more important ventures to occupy her mind. She does
n’t
have time to dwell on the color
scheme
of a
room
in a house she no longer resides
.”
He sat back, smug with his argument.
“This conversation attests to the charmed life you lead, Parker Peregrine,” Adele pointed out
,
her brow raised. Her nephew, the
sixth Marquis of Ashford
and to top it off, handsome to boot.
Well over six foot, dark wavy brown hair, piercing blue eyes
. Oh, he had sown many a wild oat in his life, but she was p
roud of the man he had become.
Th
e man he was forced to become.
A good man, just as his father had been, but he had grown used to getting all that he desired with
what appeared minimal effort.
“You gain great pleasure in reminding me of my charmed life, Aunt.”
He slanted her a look. “It’s not as if I’ve shirked my duties.
I have seen you well taken care of these many years.
”
“I disagree,” s
he countered. “Indeed you have many duties ass
ociated with the marquisette
, but you also have a duty to yourself, Parker. Your needs are ju
st as important as those around you
.”
“I daresay the
T
on
would feel differently,” he retorted, exhaling a comical sigh.
“Oh, poor thing,”
Adele exclaimed, her eyes dancing.
He eyed her warily. “Aunt, you’re being quite
aggravating
.”
“If I were so inclined, I could point out that your tone is analogous
of Peyton’s over the summer.”
“Never say!”
Parker blanched visibly
, then he sighed, slumping back into his seat
. “How right you are, Aunt.”
He chuckled.
She clucked her tongue. “Perhaps if you stopped dallying with the muslin company…”
“Aunt, I’m astonished,” he quickly interrupted her train of thought.
“I seriously doubt that. Perhaps you should spend some time at the school.” Ashford Lane School for Girls was Adele’s special project. It was a school that housed and educated indigent girls that
she
had started with her inheritance and the only other place that held her heart besides
Rosebriar
.
“What would you have
me do at your beloved school?”
He cocked his brow arrogantly. “I believe I have many talents,
A
unt, but teaching impressionable young women is not one I would relish.”
A ready smile sprang to her eyes, the lively twinkle inciting immense concern in Parker. “Perhaps you could muck the stables, my dear.” She ignored Parker’s loud sputtering cough and flying dark brows and continued to pull the thread through the fine cloth in her hand without dropping a stitch. “I’ve heard that physical labor helps clear the cobwebs and keeps one from succumbing to the tedi
ous monotony of forced ennui.”
Parker smiled, unable to s
top the chuckle that erupted, watching as
his aunt bit her lip to keep from giggling aloud. He was impressed with the witticism
s
that rolled off her tongue without even the slightest quiver in her voice. “Perfectly, delightfully
,
irascible as ever, my dear A
unt,
I wouldn’t change a
thing about you.
”
“Indeed
.”
He stood suddenly
,
his muscles protesting
their prolonged inactivity
. He
stretch
ed,
rolling his shoulders to ease the ache from sitting in the uncomfortable chair
for the afternoon
. He bent
over
to place an affectionate
kiss
on
h
is aunt’s
softly wrinkled
cheek. “I believe I will take a turn about the garden
be
fore the weather decides to change
.” He held out his arm. “Would you care to accompany me?”
“It is quite lovely this afternoon, my dear, but I have almost completed this pillow cover and I am unable to bring myself to set it aside until it is finished
and I can place it in my linen
closet
to never be seen from again
.”
He
chuckled,
bowed, and shut the door behind him.
***
The parterre garden was
as
usual a source
of great comfort to Parker
. H
e supposed he could have walked in privacy in Poppy’s walled wildflower
garden but the symmetrical pattern of the contained discipline soothed and he would have deprived his aunt of entertainment. H
e smirked a
s he looked towards the Rose Room
’
s windows and sa
w his aunt’s face peering unabashedly
down. He knew that she watched his every step. Studied
his every mood. He loathed taking that joy from her.
The scent of the remaining roses calmed his nerves and
allowed him the peace of mind to
think.
He felt a peace now that Poppy and Piper were both u
nder the protection of good
men, powerful men
,
who were
able to shield them from the evils of this world. The tension that had held his shoulders prisoner for the past four years
,
since the death of their father
,
had begun to ease over the past few months
. H
e felt his responsibilities lighten. He didn’t truly worry about Peyton’s future. He was a man.
He could take care of himself.
Aunt Adele
was right. A
new day had come.
Was it wrong of him to think of himself?
What of his desires? What of his life? What did he truly want?
He walked down one of the paths
, his long legs making fast work of their length
, his left hand trailing
lightly
over the low hedge as he went.
He enjoyed the feel of the trimmed edges scraping across his palm.
He really should wed and produce an heir. Aunt A
dele would then leave him be
and he would have done his duty. He could think of a dozen names off the top of his head that he could throw into a hat. He could withdraw one lucky name and be don
e with the whole bloody thing.
What wo
man would balk at the chance at becoming
his marchioness?
He almost chuckled aloud at his arrogant thought.
But he felt at a loss for a strategy.
He couldn’t very well leave his life to chance. The draw of
a
name could have disastrous effect on his future.
He was desirous of a lady that heated his blood. That challenged him. One with whom he could have an energetic bat
tle of wits from time to time.
He wanted an all-consuming love.
He could not see himself settling for a lukewarm relatio
nship for the sake of an heir.
He needed more than mediocr
ity
.
He wanted more than demure obedience.
With all of his ruminating, he barely noticed the beautiful surroundings of his garden or the cool air as he meandered through the landscaped paths deep in thought. He stopped only when he reached the edge of the garden and could continue no further.
Taking a deep draw on his cheroot,
hi
s eyes narrowed as he blew out a long stream of smoke
, watching the curling gray cloud
rise into the air. He let his gaze drift over the garden
and wrinkled his nose at the stench m
asking the heady smell of the wintering
garden
.
His lip
s
quirked.
He couldn’t fathom why he indulged in such
a vile
habit. He threw
his cheroot down
,
crush
ing
it beneath
his
boot
heel
with a grunt.
He took a moment to
loosen the simple cravat around his neck
, and stood
there;
hands shoved
deep into his pockets and stared
at nothing in particular.